


White Tulips

by cometcas (javabi)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Destiel if you squint - Freeform, Flowers, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Minor Character Death, POV Dean Winchester, cas is a sweetheart, or at least the boys dealing with a past death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-11 09:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/javabi/pseuds/cometcas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas gives Meg flowers. Sure, he's about 8 months too late and she's 6 feet under a blanket of snow, but it's the thought that counts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Tulips

**Author's Note:**

> Originally on my [tumblr](cometcas.tumblr.com/post/70949554855/for-my-lovely-friend-alex-happy-merry-christmas), but I moved it here for convenience. Thanks for reading!

“Dean, you said that Christmas was a time for family, right?”

The older Winchester turned to Cas instead of the movie he was watching, confused about the worry in the ex-angel’s voice. “Well yeah… That’s the gist of it if you’re not religious or whatever.”

“And if not family, then friends and loved ones, right?”

“Yeah dude. But if that’s what this is about don’t worry so much, ok? You’re family, we’ve already established that—“

“I’m not concerned for myself, I was just wondering because it seems we’re missing a few people.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “Uh… yeah. We’ve got some— some dead friends and family and stuff. But there’s nothing we can do about that, man, I’m sorry. Just me, you, and Sam this year.”

“But there are some people who aren’t dead. I know you and Sam aren’t on the best terms with her, but Meg did save—“

“Whoa, dude, you know Meg’s dead, right? Yeah that was like eight months ago, I’m sorry.” Dean returned to watching his movie, though this time he was clutching his beer a little tighter than necessary.

“Meg’s—?”

“Dead, yeah.” Again the sound of the former angel’s voice pulled Dean’s eyes from the screen. Was that _pain_  buried beneath all that gravel? And could Dean have imagined the disbelief hidden under that? No way Cas still thought she was alive, right? They had remembered to tell him at some point, Dean was sure of it.

The look on Castiel’s face said otherwise.

“Ah, dude, I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. We just—“

“You thought I wouldn’t care because she’s a demon.” Castiel said coolly. “You thought she was worthless because she betrayed you once, and you thought she couldn’t change. Well she did.” Ouch. That stung a little, if Dean was being honest.

“No – Cas we didn’t think that – it just didn’t come up, ok? I’m sorry.”

“Where’s Sam?” Castiel asked unexpectedly.

Dean was momentarily caught off guard. “Sam?”

“Yes. Your brother. I want to talk to him.”

“He’s – Cas come on, it was my fault, I’ve gotten more chances to talk to you since it happened.”

“Just tell me where Sam is. Please.”

“He’s outside shoveling, but—“

“Thank you.”

And he walked out the front door without another word. Dean secretly hoped he wouldn’t get too cold without his coat.

-O-

“Did you and Sam have a nice chat?”

Castiel didn’t look up when he re-entered the bunker, but Dean (who was unashamed to admit he’d been a little worried about the poor guy) had been on the lookout for his return. It seemed the hunter had been right to be concerned about his lack of a coat, at least: Cas was shaking like his veins were full of a motel’s magic fingers machine instead of blood. His nose was running and his cheeks were bright red, but he seemed to be ignoring all indications that he was freezing his ass off. Instead, he continued to wander around the bunker, apparently looking for something.

“Yes. He has agreed to help me.”

“Help you? With what?”

Cas didn’t reply, he just kept walking around and around the bunker. When he finally made his way into the kitchen, Dean got up to follow him.

“Do you need help finding anything? Are you hungry? I can make you something, some soup maybe. You look cold enough to chill my beer, man—“

“No thank you.”

“At least let me help you find whatever you’re looking for.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Frustrated, Dean stormed back to his movie. If the idiot didn’t want his help, why should he keep offering it? Let him figure shit out on his own, see if Dean cared.

Well, he did care, but he was temporarily ignoring that fact in order to prove his point.

Twenty minutes later, Dean heard the bunker’s door open and then slam shut. Apparently the mysterious object had been found and Cas and Sam were about to go off and do something together. Dean would be damned (again) before he stopped himself from following the two of them to see exactly what that something was.

-O-

“Is there anywhere specific that you were thinking, Cas?”

“No. Would you mind if we just walked around for a bit? I’ll know when I see it.”

“Sure thing, dude.”

Ten minutes of following his little brother and Castiel and still Dean had no idea what was going on. They were in the woods behind the bunker, traipsing through the snow, and the older Winchester desperately wished he’d thought to bundle himself up a little more before doing this. Kansas got freakin’  _cold_  in the winter. Besides the fact that he could barely hear what they were saying to each other because he had to walk so far away for fear of being detected, Dean was getting grumpy fast. But just as he had decided that it wasn’t worth it, that he should turn back before catching pneumonia, Cas told Sam to stop.

Dean crept closer to where the two of them were standing, careful to keep enough distance so the crunching of the snow beneath his boots could still be obscured by the sound of their voices. Castiel was looking around the spot as though he’d decided this was the perfect place for a picnic, and Sam was doing nothing but watching him. His brother was holding a bag, but there was no way to tell what was inside it.

“Does this look like a good spot to you, Sam?”

“I think it does, but it’s up to you. The sunlight is nice here.”

Castiel looked down at the snow covering his toes. “Yes. I like it. I think she would have too.”

Sam made the face that he normally reserved for whenever he saw a puppy. It was goopy and Dean didn’t like it. “I think so too, Cas.”

Without another word, Sam knelt down in the snow and started to unzip the bag. From its depths he dragged out a slightly crooked wooden cross, one that had the word “MEG” scrawled into it.

“Do you think it’s tacky? Putting a cross over a demon’s grave?”

“I think that regardless of her species you forgave Meg, and that if God is up there he’ll be just as forgiving as you were. She did save our lives, you know.”

Castiel smiled. “Thank you, Sam.”

A demon’s grave? Finally Dean understood.

“Dude, seriously? You had to come all the way out here just to do this?”

Both Sam and Cas jumped so suddenly that Dean had half a mind to admonish them for being terrible hunters. But before he could get a word out Sam was yelling at him.

“Dean! What the hell, man? Cas wanted this to be a  _private_  thing, get out of here.”

“It’s ok, Sam. He can stay.”

Sam looked uneasy, but didn’t say anything more as his older brother sauntered their way. “Cas, you know that if you wanted to give Meg a proper sendoff you could’ve just asked, right?” said Dean, trying to keep things friendly.

“I would have, had I known about her death in the first place.” Well, there goes the plan to keep things friendly.

“Cas, I’m  _sorry_ —“

“Dean. I already said it’s fine. Can you help us put the cross in the ground? My hands are too cold to function properly and it will still take a while, even with three of us.”

“Yeah. Yeah, no problem.”

Sam and Dean got down in the snow to hold the grave marker in place while Castiel hammered it into the ground from above. The earth was basically frozen and it was hard work, but eventually Cas seemed satisfied with the thing. When they’d finished, all three stood back to admire their handiwork.

Even Dean had to admit it was pretty nice. The cross was crudely made, but it was enough. Sunlight filtered down through the bare branches overhead, casting spidery shadows wherever it didn’t touch snow directly. In those places where it did touch, the snow shone like a thousand miniscule diamonds, flickering and glittering at each movement. The whole scene was surprisingly tranquil.

“It looks awesome, Cas.” Sam whispered.

Castiel nodded. He walked over to the abandoned bag and pulled out one last thing to make the scene complete: a bouquet of flowers. Dean couldn’t remember what they were called, but they were very pretty. White, which he thought was odd considering that the former angel had placed them in the snow, but pretty nonetheless.

“White tulips?” Sam asked, as if he had read Dean’s mind.

“They symbolize forgiveness.” Cas said solemnly as he stepped away from the grave. “I hope for her forgiveness for past mistakes, for both me and my kind. And if she were alive I think we could have had a fresh start. She’s worthy of forgiveness, even if she’s a demon.”

“Especially because she’s a demon.” Dean said before he could stop himself. Castiel turned and looked at him even more strangely than usual. The hunter panicked a little. “Sorry. I just meant—“

“I know what you meant.” Cas interrupted. And was that a smile on his lips? “Past sins do not define us, Dean. They shape us into the people we become, but they do not define us.”

“Yeah.” Dean managed to choke out. That was a stupid mistake. What he had meant to say was that he was sorry. Not like all those other times he had said it. No, this time he meant it. He had judged Cas for all the shit he’d pulled in the past, and Cas had done nothing but forgive him for his own wrongdoings. Hell, here was an angel who cared enough about a  _demon_  to dig her a grave and give her flowers. Meg wasn’t just any demon, obviously, but if Castiel could forgive her, Dean could forgive the former angel.

“I mean—“ Dean tried desperately to start over, but it seemed that Cas had gotten the message anyway. He honest-to-god smiled at the hunter and nodded, as if to say he understood. That was a relief.

“Goodbye, Meg.” Castiel whispered. He turned away from the grave and started walking back towards the bunker, snow falling all around him. The Winchesters followed in awe. Behind them, snow gathered on the tips of the cross and between the tulip petals. A fresh start.


End file.
